


the stark-tangled man with a crappy plan

by Serinah



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alpha Steve Rogers, Fluff, Kinda, M/M, No Smut, Omega Tony Stark, Omegaverse, Steve is a bounty hunter, Tony is the runaway, more fluff than not, romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serinah/pseuds/Serinah
Summary: *At first, it seemed to be an easy job: find the O, secure the O, and hand him over to his guardian and the fiance. Simple. Unfortunately, the omega wasn't onboard. At all.*OR:Steve has to return a runaway omega to his guardian Mr. Stane.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 88
Kudos: 400





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AvengersNewB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengersNewB/gifts).
  * Inspired by [You know it's not my name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924436) by [Serinah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serinah/pseuds/Serinah). 



> So. No powers, no big angst. It's a remix of my own story here on AO3, 'You know it's not my name' - a way to give myself a closure bc I couldn't do it in a fitting way for that story. I strongly encourage you to check it out if you like comedies. I had to delete a lot of funnies with the ABO version. I had a few Clint scenes too that didn't make the cut. It ended up quite a different story in essence though it has some similar scenes and dialogues.
> 
> Anew thing is the Naked Marine! :D In this story, it's Steve;)  
> Take a (possibly NSFW) look here:  
> https://capbuckyrogers.tumblr.com/post/611120797587750912/orbisonblue-kozacy-in-the-heat-of-battle  
> It’s an ABO universe, so we are not discussing what war it was. It was modern and Steve is a modern hero, not a supersoldier.  
> I wanted to rate it Teen but... some sexual advances. *shrug* Let me know if you think I lack some warnings.
> 
> That's it. I hope you'll enjoy!  
> Bae - you are the best!! (especially the title!!!)
> 
> Happy birthday, Ven! <3

At first, it seemed to be an easy job: find the O, secure the O, and hand him over to his guardian and the fiance. Simple. Unfortunately, no one had informed the O of how the mission was supposed to go.

Tony Stark, 24, the heir to Stark Industries, seemed determined to disappear off the face of the planet and have nothing to do with his legacy. Or possibly his fiance Tiberius Stone, another filthy rich industrialist. It was a nasty job, but someone had to do it and Steve needed the money desperately. Stane was offering a  _ lot _ of money. More than Steve had ever gotten for any other job before. Mainly because even as the best bounty hunter this side of the pond, Steve Rogers, 29, a retired vet, never took on runaways. Finding rich omega runaways paid a lot more than catching criminals, even the most dangerous ones. Still, making the rare and precious behave wasn’t a service Steve generally offered. He was the last one to tell a person, an O or otherwise, what they should be doing with their lives. In this case, however, Steve was willing to make an exception. Everyone had seen the widely publicized ToTy romance and it was clear that the two men were smitten with each other. That Stark ended up being addicted to coke was unfortunate. He needed help.

He was smart, though. It took Natasha almost two weeks to catch up to him. So now, here Steve was, at an auto shop, in the middle of nowhere with his self-sabotaged bike, hoping that he'd interpreted Widow’s message correctly.

“Just leave your bike here, my guy’s gonna fix it in no time,” Gary, the owner, said. “Got golden hands, he has.”

The local Midas (their runaway) would come in the next morning, so, as per plan, Steve checked in at the local inn. It would be smart to scout the place out, see what resources Stark might have.

“You sure it’s him?” he asked Nat a couple of hours later, after making a show of their staged meet-and-flirt at the inn's bar.

“I’m sure.” She smiled flirtatiously at him and he tried to match it.

They were sitting in a booth with a view of the door, trying to maintain their cover. Natasha put her fingers on the back of his hand and caressed it irritatingly.

Despite the itch, Steve kept smiling. “Gonna ditch me once we have him?”

“Clint and I have that other job lined up. You can handle one omega, can’t you?” Nat smirked, but let it go. “I’m guessing you’ll want my car, not Clint’s?”

“If you don’t mind. Clint’s is a bit flashy.”

He took a sip of his beer and leaning back, glanced around the room before bringing his gaze back next to Nat’s head. Her fingers were still on his. She shrugged, still looking into the mirror behind Steve. 

“At least it’s not purple this time,” she said.

They exchanged genuine grins.

“We’ll load your bike on it for the ride back, don’t worry,” Nat continued, “it’s a bit too clunky to ride comfortably for me.”

“Too powerful you mean.”

Natasha snorted. “Right.”

“And your cover?” Steve changed the topic, and on the pretext of checking his phone, he pulled his hand out from under hers.

Natasha smirked. “I'm a novelist. I'm writing about the accident that took place at the mines around here two centuries back.”

“Clint?”

“He’s only gonna emerge if you botch it up.”

Steve decided to not roll his eyes.

They sat in the bar until it started to close, then headed up to Steve’s room. If they played at hooking up, they could go to the car shop together in the morning. 

Which they did. When they arrived at the garage, the doors were open and the sound of a radio could be heard from the back.

“Hello?” Steve called out.

“Yeah?”

The room was big enough for the sound to carry, but where the young, cheerful voice came from was unclear. Somewhere in the back, probably.

“I came for my bike,” Steve said, stepping in further. “I walked it here last night?”

“Yeah, didn't have a chance to take a look at it yet.”

Steve stepped further in. At the back of the room there was a car with its hood up. Most of the car was behind something large, hidden under a piece of dark tarp.

“That's okay,” Steve replied, “I'm not in a hurry.”

Natasha had come inside too, but remained near the door, silently cataloging everything she saw.

“Give me a second,” came the same voice. “I need to…”

Suddenly, they heard a mighty roar from some kind of engine and, under that, a faint whoop of success. A few seconds later, the engine was turned off and a dark-haired young ma- oh god, this was Stark. He’d shaved his goatee which now made him look like a — honest to god — a highschooler. Steve frowned. Stark was wiping his hands on a rag, was gangly, as if he’d lost a lot of weight (which was consistent with him using), but only half a head shorter than Steve. His huge chocolate brown eyes framed with gorgeous eyelashes were even more impressive up close. Well, not  _ gorgeous _ gorgeous, but… well, omegas were supposed to be pretty, was all Steve meant.

Probably the only reason people didn’t recognize him on the spot was that the Stark heir going missing was a closely-guarded secret. That, and the fact that he smelt nothing like an O at the moment.

“Ooh! A specimen!” Stark’s face lit up.

The O stepped closer and Steve suddenly felt big and ungainly, in comparison. Good God, his omega biology was something else, if he had such an impact on Steve, even under suppressants. His gaze zeroed in on every movement that Stark’s body made and Steve had to consciously slow his breathing.

“You the local miracle mechanic?  You sure, you out of high school yet? ” Steve said, trying to keep himself together.

“And college,” the kid exclaimed in mock hurt. “I'm twenty-two, I'll have you know. Having a gap year. Say ‘thank you’.”

Shaving two years off, huh? Smart. Well, he could definitely  carry it off without facial hair like he was.

“Thank you? For…?”

“I’m the best damn mechanic in the country. And probably several others. Possibly on this planet. Or this dimension even.”

The arrogance was stupidly charming and that in itself was annoying. He swallowed his huff.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Natasha said, clearly more amused than anything.  “No offense, but you don't look old enough for that.”

“Fifty bucks says I’ll find the problem in under two minutes.” Stark grinned. “And my name’s Steve, not kid. Steve Rogers.”

Steve stared. “What?”

Stark’s face lit up. “You know the naked marine? America’s Ass? I’m only his namesake, unfortunately. Although, admittedly, my ass is pretty spectacular too.” Stark grinned winningly again. “So, what do I call you?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Stevens. Roger Stevens.” He could just feel Nat cackling at him on the inside.

For a moment, the other Steve’s eyes widened comically. “For real? Imagine if we got married — Steve Stevens… Or you could be Roger Rogers-Stevens. I’m a beta, see?” Then he shook his head and turned to Natasha. “And you, beautiful?”

Natasha smirked. “June.”

“Alright, June... Beautiful?” He waggled his eyebrows at Natasha. “Alright, June Beautiful, future June Stevens, let’s check your boyfriend’s ride out.” He leered at Steve and went to crouch next to the bike.

“So, tell me, Steve,” Nat said conversationally. “You from around here?”

Steve and Nat both knew that even though Stark had been on the run for almost six months now, he’d been here for only a couple of them.

“Nah. Got some family here though. The garage owner is my uncle, he happened to need some hospital rest for a bit, so I decided to spend my gap year here. Match made in heaven, really.” There was a brief pause and then Steve heard a quiet murmur, “Harley, darling, talk to me.”

Steve blinked. Was he talking to the bike? Oh god, he was. Stark's fingers were lightly caressing the machine's flank and Steve's eyes tracked the movement. His mouth went dry. Emitting alpha pheromones was the last thing he needed right now. Clint in a tutu. Phillips putting on lipstick. A concentration camp in Azzano.

“Do you know what's wrong with her?”  Stark asked, bringing Steve back to the present.

“Do  _ I _ know what's wrong?” he replied, not without humor in his voice. “What's wrong is that my bike has died and cannot start.”

Stark snorted. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Steve turned to Nat and smiled at her in a way that he hoped was flirtatious. “Seems like I might need to stick around. You gonna keep me company?”

“If you make it worth my while,” Nat replied.

She sounded light but her gaze was sharp on Stark, who, as Steve only now realized, had gone suspiciously still if only for a moment. When he stood up, his bright grin still seemed genuine but it didn’t reach his eyes and Steve tensed.

“The bike okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, peachy.” Stark looked around the shop behind him. “I can get it up and running in a couple of hours, in fact. Just... need this thing from out there.” He nodded past Nat and him, straight out the door as if that way lay salvation. 

Steve felt unease dribbling from his spine to his toes. Something had tipped Stark off and Steve had no idea what. But they couldn’t just cause a scene in broad daylight. The plan was to capture him after dark from wherever he was staying. Damn.

Just as the kid started faux casually moving towards the door, out of some unnamed instinct, Steve stepped directly into his path.

Stark flinched.

“Something wrong?” Nat asked lightly.

“What's wrong?” Stark’s smile was wry. “How about the fact that two total strangers appear the same day in a place where you can go several weeks without meeting an unfamiliar face and suddenly they're doing everything together. How's that for wrong?”

“Fate? You know how it sometimes is - a powerful A and a pretty B, sparks fly...” Nat shrugged, quite naturally in Steve’s opinion, but Stark huffed.

“Yeah, don’t I know it.” His eyes were roaming the shelf to his left while keeping Steve and Nat in his view.  “And that other buff alpha lurking in a shiny dark vintage at the edge of the town? Also a coincidence?”

“No idea what you are talking about,” Natasha said, but she was pissed, Steve could tell Clint was going to hear about it later.

Stark shuffled closer to the shelf. “The bike was clearly sabotaged, and somehow I doubt that the buff specimen here would’ve been so calmly telling me about the engine dying if he hadn’t done it himself.”

Natasha glared at Steve.

“I did exactly as you told me to!” he exclaimed defensively.

“Not your fault,” the O said, turning in an uncannily clever maneuver that put him directly next to the tool cupboard.  “You’d fool any other mechanic out there. Told you, I’m the best.”

Despite the glib self-promotion, the guy looked distinctly trapped. Steve took a step closer and lightning-quick, Stark grabbed a heavy screwdriver, glaring defiantly at them. His feet were placed apart, every muscle tense, ready to strike.

“Look,” Nat said in her most reassuring tone, “We’re not here because of you, okay? We are on a job but I’ve no idea who you are.”

Stark didn’t look very reassured. “Yeah? Prove it!” he challenged.

“How?” Steve’s eyebrows rose.

“Leave,” Stark declared. “Right now. Come back tomorrow morning for your bike and leave me be.”

It would be risky. No way Stark wouldn’t run if they just turned around here and left, but the alternative was decking him over his head or carrying him out kicking and screaming in broad daylight. Both options were unfortunately out of the question.

“Fine,” Steve decided. “We’re going. Just keep your thoughts about us to yourself so we can get the bastard we are after, deal?”

For a fraction of a moment, Stark stared at them in disbelief, but then nodded. “Deal.”

Steve nodded and they left. A little way down the street, Nat slipped away into an alley and Steve dialed Clint.

“Stark’s running, take position.”

“Copy.”

Okay, so Clint was going to take his tranq rifle and climb the water tower where he could see both roads out of the town, and Nat and he were going to try and catch him before he actually made it onto the road. Hopefully he wouldn’t try going through the forest.

“The backstreets are empty,” Nat called to tell him a minute later. “I’ll go to the bridge, you get to the motel.”

“Copy.”

It would be easier if Stark went  to retrieve his stuff from the motel. If he had a go-bag in the garage, he’d probably be taking the bridge route and Stark could easily lose them in the forest. Steve started to jog.

*

Steve peered up to the second-floor windows but it was too sunny to see inside. He slipped around the building. Thankfully, there weren’t any people around, and quietly, he started creeping up the stairs of a second-floor apartment where, according to Clint, Stark was staying. Steve really hoped he wasn’t too late. He needed that bounty.

Once up, he took out the key Natasha had acquired and very quietly unlocked the door.  With a quiet click, he pushed the door open and heard a very quiet beeping start in the bedroom.

Steve moved fast — he leaped through the front room only to see the O with one leg out the back window and a backpack in his hand. The next moment, Stark was face down on the floor with Steve’s knee between his shoulder blades.

“It’s okay.” Steve tried using his most calming voice. “I wasn’t lying about not wanting to hurt you.”

“Yeah, very reassuring,” Stark replied, out of breath. “Let me up!”

“Only if you promise not to run.”

“Sure! I won’t run, I promise!” he said, but he sounded highly sarcastic and he was still struggling.

“Stark!” Steve hissed, pressing down on his back harder. 

The O grunted, swore, and  stopped struggling.

“Okay. Good,” Steve said quietly. “Now, if I let you up, will you promise not to run?”

“Is there any chance you won’t catch me a second later?”

“No.”

“Well, you might as well let me up then.”

Steve had to concede the point, and stood up.

“Fucking bodybuilder,” Stark groused, making a show of smoothing down his T-shirt. “I feel like a house fell on me.”

“Do I have to cuff you?”

Stark stilled.

“No.”

Steve still wasn’t sure if he could trust the man — then again, he’d never know if he didn’t give him a chance. The omega hefted the backpack onto his shoulder and cocked his eyebrow as if asking what now.

Steve thumbed his phone open. “I have the package. Bring the car.”

“At the front,” Nat replied, having obviously already arrived.

“Move,” Steve told Stark, nodding towards the front door.

For a moment, the O’s eyes jumped between the door and the back window behind Steve’s shoulder. 

“If you don’t start moving, I’ll just tie you up and carry you,” Steve said with all seriousness, and the other guy blanched.

“Fine. I’m moving.”

And true to his word, the young man started walking towards the door. Steve felt himself relax, but once outside, Stark stumbled back, stepped sharply on Steve’s foot, elbowed him in the gut and tried to leap over the railing. Steve heard the car door open — Nat was ready to intercept, but Steve just grunted and grabbed the O around the middle, effectively pinning his hands to his sides, and put him in a chokehold with his other hand. Stark struggled only briefly, quickly recognizing the futility of it, and slumped in Steve’s hold. It felt like he was giving up: the O didn’t even curse; he just stilled.

His body was warm and pliant against Steve’s and for a second, Steve just breathed in the neutral scent that more than anything, resembled a beta’s, but it still made his gut tighten in a distinctly pleasurable way.

Abruptly, Steve let him go and stepped back.

Slowly, the O — Stark turned around and looked at Steve, disbelievingly.

“Just move,” Steve said dully. “You know I can’t let you get away and there’s no way you can best me.”

“Fuck you,” Stark bit out.

“Steve,” Steve heard himself say.

“What?”

“Call me Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“Ha-fucking-ha.”

Steve stared at him.

“You’re… you are serious?” Stark blinked. “You’re serious. Your name really is Steve Rogers? Like America’s Ass? Or are you… Oh my god, you  _ are _ him! You are the Naked Marine! I can’t believe it!” He stared, then giggled.

Steve sighed. He didn’t deign to answer, but felt infinitely better seeing life in the young man’s eyes again, even if he was snickering at his expense. It didn’t matter. Two minutes later, Stark was in the car, handcuffed to the door and then they were off.

“Can’t risk you trying to cause an accident,” Steve explained, but Stark just stared mutinously out of the window. “Look. This is for your own good. You know that your guardian and Mr. Stone just want what’s best for you.”

Still no reaction. But it was the wrong kind of silence — not the mulish, stubborn one where a teen was being brought before his dad for being a brat; rather, it seemed… But no. It was none of Steve’s business. His business was getting Tony Stark and transporting him where he belonged; to the people who cared about him and would take care of him. So silently, Steve drove on.

After a little while, Stark cleared his throat.

“Look,” he said. “I’ll double whatever he paid you, okay?”

“It’s not about the money,” Steve lied. “Well, it shouldn’t be at least,” he corrected himself. “It’s so that you could get better, okay? There are people who care about you and they want you to get better, but they can’t help you if you—”

“How about a million?”

It wasn’t just an offer, it was an attack, an offense in the form of a bribe. An insult, not a negotiation. Steve glanced at Stark. His big dark eyes were staring at Steve with the burning fire of desperation.

“A million," the omega repeated. "You know who I am, so you know I can get it. That’s how you help me, okay?”

“It's not about the money," Steve pressed through his teeth. He wasn't even lying, not anymore. Once Steve had a contract, he was loyal, he prided himself on it. He couldn't be bought, not for any price. "I can't go back on my contract," Steve explained. "Besides, how would you even get your money? Doesn't it go through your guardian?"

"Let me worry about how to get it." Stark turned to look straight ahead. "Two million."

"Obadiah Stane is paying me to bring you home,  so that's what my team and I are doing ."

"No, listen," Stark said, shifting in his seat. Steve could feel his stare on the side of his head. "I can get the money. I have a plan."

Steve sighed. "You're an omega, Tony," Steve said. "You can't just do whenever you please. Mr. Stone—"

"Fuck off."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Just a warning:**  
> some more mild violence between Tony and Steve. It's along the lines of what you've already seen in ch1, but I suddenly realized that maybe it's triggering for some people? If you have triggers with domestic or sexual violence, you can take a look at the endnotes before reading.
> 
> And a huge thank you to Bae, who's been a wonderful, WONDERFUL beta!! Love you!! <3

Steve blinked. “Three million?”

“Fine. Four. You know it's not gonna start hurting me until we get into the double-digited millions and you'll be set for life either way. Your teammates will be set for life. What don’t you just call and ask for their opinion, huh?” Stark was speaking rapidly, as if spewing out nonsense, but something in his demeanor told Steve that it had all been thoroughly thought through. “Just get me secretly to New York and help me to get into an SI server room. I’ll give you whatever you ask for, okay?”

In frustration, Stark pulled on the cuff tethering him to the door and the sight of his wiry muscles moving under his skin caught Steve’s eye. He tore his gaze away.

"A server room?"

Mr. Stane had warned Steve that Stark would try to bribe him while hinting at conspiracy theories and whatnot, but the truth was - Tony Stark was just out there to get his next fix and Steve had to make sure that Tony wouldn't get any.

"I'll tell you all about the plan once we are in New York, okay? Deal?"

"No." Steve gripped the steering wheel and resolutely didn't look at the enticing omega sitting next to him.

For a while, they drove on in silence and Steve was starting to feel awkward and stifled. He thought about Stark's ability to actually deliver on a promise of a couple of million dollars but it didn't matter. His reputation and integrity mattered. Doing the right thing mattered. He had a contract and Stark needed help which he wouldn’t get out there on his own.

An hour later, i t was still quiet in the car and Steve needed to make a pitstop.

“We need to stop for gas. Will you behave?”

Stark didn’t even look at him. “Will you believe me if I said yes?”

“I can knock you out?” Steve parried sarcastically and the omega froze.

“Don’t,” he said. “Please.”

Steve stared at him; he was starting to get a feeling that Stark might be genuinely afraid of him. Had something happened while on the run? Had anyone — he cut this line of thought off. No use imagining what could’ve happened. Steve turned away.

“Just behave,” he said quietly.

“Sure but…” A blink, and Stark was back to his cocky self. “Puppy need a walkie?”

And honest to god, on the puppy dog eyes, he delivered. Steve blinked, swallowed and nodded.

“Just wait until I’m finished. We’ll go together.”

*

Just in case, Steve decided to tank up and get the food before allowing his captive out of the car. He didn’t think the young omega would be as difficult to handle as his usual bounties, but experience had taught him caution.

“You want coffee, tea or soda?” he asked Tony, leaning into the open driver door after he’d filled up. “And any sandwich you can’t eat?”

Tony blinked at him as if bewildered to have been given a choice.

“Two coffees, and anything goes for food,” he fired off after a second.

“Okay. Just honk if something happens, ok? I’ll only be a minute.” He started to lock the car when something occurred to him. “And so help you god, if you just start honking without a reason!”

He ignored the customary eye-roll and locked the car.

There was no line, so the walk there and back was quick. Steve put the packed-up food on the backseat and opened Tony’s door.

“Okay, then. Just walk in front of me and don’t run.”

Knowing that Tony wasn’t his usual type of a bounty, but a misguided omega, made Steve feel like the worst sort of person, so once he unlocked the handcuffs from the door, he removed them entirely.

“I already told the people working there that I’m transporting a bounty, so no use in calling out for help.”

Tony offered a bland smile and pointedly rubbed his wrists. Then he turned, and raised his hands in a sinuous stretch, and started walking towards the building. Steve stood a moment more, adjusted his jeans and followed.

He was just being vigilant. He wasn’t staring, Steve told himself. Stark’s butt was round, his shoulders strong. He walked like a man, but called to Steve’s blood like no man ever had before.

Damn, omega biology.

They made it to the toilets. Stark went into the stall, came out, washed his hands and face. At the mirror, he paused and their eyes met in the reflection. The O’s lips softened and his shoulders jerked as if to say, ‘what can you do’? Stupidly, Steve’s whole body relaxed and he could breathe easier. He smiled back.

When they were leaving the station, Stark said, “Steve, wait.”

Steve turned back to look at him questioningly. Stark’s— Tony’s mouth moved but no words came out. He huffed, then stepped closer, his right hand snaking around Steve's waist. Tony leaned up.

Helplessly frozen, Steve waited as Tony’s face came closer and closer until their lips touched. Steve gasped and he shivered, his hands automatically coming up to rest gently on the other man’s hips. Tony’s lips pressed against his for a long moment, then started moving, taking genty hold of Steve’s upper and then his lower lip. Involuntarily, Steve’s mouth opened more and Tony pressed closer, moved in, invaded, and conquered. His hands roamed Steve’s body pulling him flush to his own—

“Hey!” someone yelled from the counter, and startled, Steve jerked back. “You need a room, there’s a motel a coupl’ a miles south from ‘ere?”

“That’s okay,” Tony called out, his eyes still fixed on Steve’s. “We’ve got everything we need.”

He sounded breathless and the smile that was gracing his beautiful face was sweet. The corners of Steve’s lips started to turn up when Tony took a step back and — in a flash — was out the door. Stupefied, Steve stared, then, adrenaline spiking, he jumped after the omega who was already riding away on a bicycle that Steve could vaguely remember seeing standing outside the gas station.

“What the fuck,” Steve mumbled, glancing at his car and back at Tony who, almost on the forest path now, was loudly cackling at his perceived win.

“I’ve got your keys!” he yelled then, raised his hand to the side and jingled Steve’s car keys.

“Sh—!”

Momentarily enraged, Steve sprang into action. His feet pumping under him, he was gaining speed, and since the omega was arrogantly driving his stolen bike at a moderate pace, Steve was steadily eating up the distance between them.

Having quietly arrived just behind Tony, Steve suddenly increased his speed, caught up to the omega, and grabbing him by the shirt, abruptly yanked him off the bike.

Tony yelled, and crashed straight onto Steve, who landed, slightly dazed, on his back onto the gravel.

They lay there for less than a second. The next moment, Tony was struggling to get up, Steve holding his body down with both arms around the omega like a cocoon around a newly-minted butterfly.

"Stop… struggling," Steve ground out in a hoarse voice.

He didn't sound like himself, even he could hear that. This close, the mere idea of possible omega smell was mixing with adrenaline and his own want. Tony's flushed — from fear, fear, Rogers! — skin tantalizingly close to Steve's face, and their groins touching fleetingly, just until Steve finally managed to trap the omega's legs between his own.

Tony stilled.

They were panting, and holding on tight, Steve closed his eyes. He knew the exact moment the omega smelled his wild alpha pheromones. Tony stiffened as if literally petrified.

"The keys," Steve said, his voice gravelly.

"What?"

"The keys," Steve repeated with deliberate precision. "Give them the fuck back. Now."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, sounding wary. "Sure."

He fumbled shortly in his jacket pocket and threw the keys to the side, just a foot away.

Biting back a curse, Steve growled. Then, clasping his fingers tightly around Tony's left elbow, he dragged it into the middle of the O’s back. Holding it and Tony’s other arm there, Steve stretched his other hand out, palmed the keys and quickly placed them back into the front pocket of his jeans.

"Good," Steve said darkly. "Now I'm going to roll us over and you are not going to resist. Got it?"

He saw Tony  swallow heavily , but otherwise there was no reaction, so without waiting a moment more, Steve placed his right foot on the ground and pushed. They turned over and Tony grunted. Recovering shockingly fast, Tony shoved at Steve’s chest and tried to knee his groin, but with simple brute strength, Steve pushed his both knees between the O’s legs. Then, putting his arms around Tony’s middle, Steve heaved him up onto his shoulder and stood. Tightly pressing Tony's thighs to his chest, Steve started walking, ignoring his captive’s yells as he kept banging his fists on Steve’s back.

The gas station workers and some patrons came out to goggle but otherwise stayed away.

Having deposited his unruly package into the car (and this time, he cuffed his both wrists to the door), Steve locked it. Determinedly, he strode back into the forest, quickly checked the bicycle for damage (there wasn’t any that Steve could see), and returned it to where he'd thought he'd seen it before Tony took it for a joyride.

Back in the car, Steve was somewhat calmer, but feeling foolish had never made him particularly forgiving, so without saying a word, he turned the key in the ignition, and with his gaze fixed straight ahead, started driving.

It was almost half an hour later that Steve noticed his stomach growling. Thinking it through, he parked at the roadside, retrieved the food bag and the lukewarm coffees from the backseat, and turned to look at Tony.

"Gonna uncuff your left so you can eat," Steve said, staring at him, "but you even think of trying anything, I'll punch your lights out."

Tony stared back only for a moment, then averting his gaze, nodded quietly.

They ate in silence, packed the rubbish into the paper bag and drove on.

In silence.

A few minutes later, Steve’s eyes saw a movement from the corner of his eye, but it didn’t register properly as anything strange at first. Then, he noticed Tony taking a pill out of a small ziplock plastic packet.

Hitting the brakes, Steve smacked the pill out of the O’s hand. Tony yelled, and briefly, their fingers fought for the packet in his other hand, but there had never been any doubt about the outcome. Steve took the misshapen but intact packet, and holding it out of the omega's reach, examined it in the dim evening light. There were some kind of yellow capsules in it, with no markings, no labels anywhere.

"What is this?" Steve asked, his tone terse. He'd already forgotten about Stark's drug habit. "Nevermind." Stupid. "Do you have more?"

Stark tensed. Steve grit his teeth.

"Hand them over," he said resolutely. "Or I'll take them."

Breathing hard, St— Tony pressed himself to the door. For a split second, they stared at each other, then moved at the same time: Tony trying to open the door and Steve immobilizing him.

"Let go, you son of a bitch! Fuck you—"

“Stop! Where the hell—!”

Steve got his free wrist, pressing his knee onto the O's to keep him from kicking, and started patting down his pockets—

"Ouch!" Steve yelled when Stark bit him, and reflexively, Steve's arm rose for a slap.

As if in slow motion, Steve registered the widening of Stark's eyes, his palm connecting and the red print blossoming on the omega's cheek.

Oh god. There was a lengthy pause during which they just stared at each other.

"I'm so sorry," Steve mumbled, jerking backward.

The promised punch would've been better, Steve acknowledged in mute horror. A lot better. But there wasn’t any space for a proper punch and… And this was an omega, was the thought in his stupid brain, Steve suddenly realized with new-found horror. A treacherous, slutty omega. Right? Steve had to swallow a hysterical giggle.

"I'm sorry," Steve said woodenly. "I shouldn't have slapped you."

"Fuck you."

“I mean it.” He felt nauseous. Steve had just lost any mor al superiority he’d imagined he had here. But this wasn’t anything he could back down about either; not when the O’s health was on the line. “Just give them over.”

“Or what?” Tony challenged.

“Just give them here,” Steve repeated without inflection. 

Tony didn’t answer, just swallowed. Then scowling, he put his hand into his jacket’s inner pocket and fished another plastic packet out. His fingers white around it, he stared at it for only a second before he threw it at Steve and turned to look out of the window. His jaw was set and his face hard, but Steve told himself that it was for the better. He took a look at the drugs. They were simple white pills and Steve had no idea what they even could be. He put the packet into his own pocket together with the capsules and started the car.

For about thirty miles they drove in stony silence. Finally, Steve couldn’t take it anymore.

“Look… Tony.”

The omega didn’t answer and Steve sighed.

“I meant what I said,” he continued firmly. “Slapping you was wrong. I am sorry. I’ve just… You’re the first omega I’ve spent any considerable time together with.”

“Yeah,” Tony muttered. “Figured as much.”

The reply was somewhat biting, but Tony relaxed a fraction, so Steve went on.

“I know you don’t trust me, and I get it.” Steve bit his inner cheek. “I’m a stranger to you, but you do know Mr. Stane, and your fiance. You  _ must _ know that they only want the best for you, don’t you?”

"Is that why you didn't fuck me in the forest?" Tony asked quietly. "Because they paid you extra for not touching me?"

"What? No!" Steve turned to stare at the O, completely aghast. "No, I would never… is that what you think of me? That I’d just...” With a jerk, he turned back to watch the road. “...rape any omega I happen to come across…?"

Bile rose into his mouth, and Steve had to swallow convulsively.

"There are all sorts." Tony shrugged awkwardly.

"Has that…?" Steve's mind was leering with awful possibility. "Did it happen to you while…?"

"No,” Tony muttered. “I can take care of myself," he added defensively.

Steve nodded jerkily. Took a deep breath.

"Okay." He sighed, and nodded to himself again. "Good." Sighed again. Maybe it was futile to even try, but... "These drugs you are taking… They are not good for you. Your guardian and your fiance just want the best for you—”

“Because sitting at home and popping out babies is good for me, right?” Tony said bitterly.

That gave Steve a pause. “Surely this is not the only thing they want for you?” he pointed out, reasonably.

“No, this is  _ exactly _ what they want for me,” Tony said, his lips crooking. “And don’t look so appalled, you are no better than them! All alphas are the same. I wish you’d just give in already and take the money.” His gaze sharpened. “Unless you just don't believe I can deliver.” He sat up straighter and turned his persuasive eyes toward Steve. “Look, Rogers, I wasn't lying. I do have a plan, and I know what I’m doing. If you can help me get to the servers, I can access my accounts. It would only take a few minutes to transfer whatever I need into an untraceable account, and the moment we are out and safe, I will give you your share. Everybody wins!”

“Except your guardian.”

Tony grimaced. “Don’t worry about Obie. He’ll still have the company and that’s all he really wants.”

Steve didn’t know what to think. Stane's words had made sense when Steve heard them and they made sense now, but something in Tony Stark challenged Steve to look past them. Was Tony right about his guardian or was that all just the manipulative words of a desperate addict?

“And your fiance?” Steve asked.

A complicated set of expressions flitted over Tony’s face before settling into a carefully-crafted neutral mask.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you think he’s going to be heartbroken if you just… disappear?”

Tony’s beautiful lips twisted into an ugly sneer.

“Ty heartbroken? That I’d pay to see.”

The words were quiet and grim, with a sort of vengefulness that Steve wouldn’t have expected from an omega. Immediately, the thought surprised him. Apparently, his thinking patterns indicated that omegas were some kind of… Steve didn’t even know. He’d always known that there was a certain bias with which society treated omegas, simply because they were rare, but Steve had never realized that he was prone to any prejudice himself. But maybe he was.

“I’m sorry about having presumed anything about your life or relationships,” Steve said. “And I meant it when I apologized for slapping you. You’re an omega and I’m… I’m still horrified it even happened—”

“Which is why you're still talking about it.” Tony snorted resignedly. “Don’t sweat it, I know my omega nature made you do it,” he added with a slight sneer.

Steve reared back as if he’d been slapped himself.

“No!” His tone was vicious. “No. That’s not what I meant. I meant that there's no excuse for doing something like that and that it won’t happen again. Not to you, not to anyone. Not from me.” He pressed the gas pedal. “I’m going to do my job and deliver you to Mr. Stane. That’s it. As a bounty hunter I’m allowed to use force as I see fit, but degrading and insulting is not what I do. And I will never harm you without due cause.”

“Very reassuring.”

“Whether you believe me or not,” Steve said, deciding to try again. “It doesn’t change the fact that being out here on your own, dependent on drugs that harm you, is not in anyone’s interests, starting with you.”

He wasn’t surprised when Tony didn't reply.

*

When Steve parked at the local airport, he turned to his passenger and tried to withhold a sigh.

“Yeah, I know,” Tony interjected before Steve could open his mouth. “Be a good boy and you won’t get hurt.”

Irrationally, Steve felt a flare of anger. It wasn’t his fault that Tony had gotten addicted and was now resisting everyone’s help, but then Steve looked at the O and something was still tugging at his heartstrings. It wasn’t even the deeply unhappy air about him. It was... the opposite. Despite the situation, Tony’s chin was turned up, his posture brave and the look in his eyes stubborn.

It made Steve want to protect him even more.

“Look, Tony,” he started resolutely. “I really don't want to hurt you and neither does Mr. Stane. He just wants what’s best for you. If you really don’t want to get married, you don’t have to, but running away like this, isn’t the answer.”

A short derisive laugh was his only reply.

“I mean it, Tony. We only want to help.”

The O stared at him for a moment, and his lips twisted into a wistful little smile. And died. He shook his head, incredulous.

“You know what? I actually think you believe it. You really think that if you haul me back to New York and into the mansion, that I won’t be confined to my quarters with the date for the wedding set for just before my next heat?” He huffed, and turned away, to look out of the window. “You already know that no one’s going to allow me suppressants, so you can bet your ass that the same time next year, I’ll have started popping out babies and crunching out blueprints to anything Obie wants because if I don’t… I’ll never see my babies.”

Steve frowned in disbelief, but didn't say anything further. He knew that paranoia was a thing with addicts. And if it wasn’t that, then it was plain old lying. Ignoring the manipulation, Steve took out the handcuff key and unlocked the omega from the door, only to transfer the empty cuff onto the captive’s other wrist. The look on Tony’s face was resigned, but Steve had no time for guilt. He had a contract he was obligated to fulfill, and he’d make sure that the omega arrived where he was supposed to arrive.

Just before Steve opened the car door, there was a touch on his thigh and Steve jolted, only to see Tony’s gorgeous eyes raised to his, shining with dark promise.

“So,” Tony said quietly, “last time to change your mind, I guess?”

He smiled and stroked Steve’s thigh, moving his palm closer to the groin. Steve knew he was supposed to push the hands away but his muscles were frozen in anticipation, his breath caught.

Tony smiled sensuously. ”You know what gets me hot even more than Mr. Tall, Blond and Muscular?” His eyelashes fluttered and Steve had to bite back a whimper. “Being… cuffed.”

He said the last word in a way that made it sound obscene. His hands traveled up to cup Steve’s cock and that was what finally broke him out of his stupor. Steve jerked backward, fumbled for the car door open and almost fell out.

“Jesus, Tony! What do you think you are doing? You can’t just…!”

His breathing was quick, and he started dusting himself off as if the little dirt on his clothes was the problem, not his raging hard-on.

Tony got out of the car and started walking around it, towards Steve.

“Aww, come on, Steve,” Tony called out. “You know you want to. And so do I,” he said. “If you’re really taking me back then I definitely have nothing to lose. How about you?”

He was only a few feet away and Steve had to take a step back. His dick hated him, but Tony wasn’t his, and the O probably didn’t want him anyway. Not really. In any case, this was wrong.

“No.” Steve shook his head. “You’re engaged.”

“Ty and I are through,” Tony said, dismissively. “I like you. Remember how it felt? You and me? Up close? Haven't you ever wondered what knotting really feels like?”

Tony was close now, and Steve’s breath started resembling panting, but he shook his head. 

“You don’t really want this,” Steve uttered, still unsure, but then he remembered the drugs and how stiffly Tony had been lying on him in the forest just a few hours ago, and it strengthened his resolve.

His smile gentle, Tony stopped just a foot away from Steve. He looked sincere, his smile genuine. But it couldn’t be. He just wanted the drugs. Right?

“But Steve…” Tony continued quietly.

Steve watched the omega’s lips move, and saliva pooling in his mouth, his own almost opened. Blood rushing south, Steve was rock hard and it seemed that Tony’s smell was all around him.

“You know I’m not a virgin,” Tony said. “And I’m not in heat. It’s safe.”

Steve knew he should step back, but Tony’s omega pheromones were in the air all around them or maybe it was his imagination, but Steve’s feet were rooted to the spot, unmoving.

“And I do want you, Steve.” Tony’s eyes were  soft and inviting. “I’ve wanted from the first moment I saw you in that little car shop. You know that’s true.”

And Steve knew. He’d wanted Tony too. It had been a mutual attraction from the start, just like they said it was supposed to be between an alpha and an omega — it was happening and Tony was standing not even a foot away now, putting his hands on Steve’s chest, sliding them upwards, his handcuffs catching against the fabric—

Steve stepped away, horrified. “No! No, Tony, no, we can’t. This is wrong!”

He took a step more and turned his back to Tony. Hurriedly, he took his bag from the car, and fortifying himself, looked back at the omega who was still standing at the driver’s door.

“Steve—”

“No,” he said again firmly. Anger for himself and for Tony, and maybe fate, was welling up in his chest and Steve couldn't even look at the omega any longer. “My job is to deliver you to where you belong, and I don’t want there to be any touching or inappropriate propositions, and no more sob stories. You got it?”

For a short minute, Tony stared at him, affronted, betrayed, then his jaw firmed, his posture straightened out.

“Sure, Alpha,” he said, and somehow, it sounded like a curse. Tony shrugged. “Whatever you say. Lead the way.”

Steve nodded, took one of the sweatshirts out of his bag and draped it over Tony’s handcuffs.

“What, not into public games?” Tony asked, bitingly.

“Shut up,” Steve returned quietly, even as he blushed, because his cock was still hard and the omega’s pheromones had not yet  dissipated.

He took the omega by the elbow and set their feet towards the airport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: Steve slaps Tony and he has to physically restrain and carry him. IDK if I'm being too cautious here, but it occurred to me that some of it might feel like domestic abuse and some is similar to sexual violence. I think it's because Steve is confused about his own feelings and prejudice (he's working on it), and Tony does not know Steve at all and is actually afraid. Steve, as an alpha, is just so much stronger than Tony, and most of his actions are done under duress. Nothing bad actually happens imo, and I think most of it gets resolved in this chapter, but who knows how it is for other people. So this is my warning. Be careful and love yourself. <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is at last!  
> Thank you to the many people that helped me, but especially my dear BuckyAboveEverything who went over my text, again and again. You are a treasure!! <3
> 
> The only warnings I can think of are treating people like things and really heated kissing. If you think I'm missing tags, let me know. :)
> 
> Enjoy the ride!!! <3
> 
> (Happy BD, Ven! Lob u!) :D

Once inside the airport, Steve guided Tony to walk in front of him toward the commercial flight area and went straight to the ticketing clerk.

“Good afternoon,” he said to the clerk and flashed his badge along with a polite smile. “I’m Steve Rogers with US Marshals Service. Transporting a detainee.” He slid his ID along with the rest of the documents over the counter. “Two tickets to New York, please.”

The official’s wide eyes snapped from the badge to ID, to Steve’s face, to the papers and then finally to Tony where they stayed longer than strictly necessary. It was very clear that it was the most interesting thing that had happened to the woman in a very long time, but all her excitement turned into an abashed flush as soon as she laid her eyes on the omega. Inwardly, Steve scoffed, imagining the arrogantly rakish grin that Tony was undoubtedly wearing on his face. And apparently, it was working. Even betas seemed to fall under the O’s charms.

Purchasing the tickets and the paperwork didn’t take much time. Steve only had to place a phone call to Mr. Stane’s office about their arrival, and soon, Steve was ushering Tony into the food court. Despite the previous devil-may-care attitude, all through getting their food and carrying it to the table, Tony was strangely subdued and Steve started feeling bad for him.

“Look, Tony,” he said once they had sat down. “I know you don’t want to go home—”

“Any chance you’ll uncuff me for the meal?” Tony interrupted him.

Watching the omega raising his hands challengingly, Steve suddenly remembered—

_”You know what gets me hot even more than Mr. Tall, Blond and Muscular? Being… cuffed.”_

—the feel of those hands on his thigh. Steve’s cock twitched, and he looked away, feeling that thrice-damned blush creeping up his stupid cheeks again.

“You’re eating a sandwich,” he said gruffly. “The cuffs will stay on.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but compared to how he'd been acting before, it came off as somehow muted, and Steve felt a pang of regret.

*

They were sitting in the last row near the toilets, and the nearest passengers were seated a row away. Tony at the window, still cuffed, not talking to him. Steve sighed. It was going to be some long four hours. He was proven wrong three minutes in.

“You think I’ll escape from a plane somehow?” Tony asked with a sigh. “Take a pilot hostage?” He raised his cuffed hands and an eyebrow.

Steve almost smiled.

“Fine,” he said, taking the key out. “But they go back on once we start landing.” He uncuffed the omega. “After all, I do love our public games.”

Tony blinked, startled. “Right.”

He rubbed his wrists as if they had actually been too tight and Steve had to struggle not to roll his eyes in relief. Seemed that they weren’t doomed to spend the flight in silence after all.

“Well, it’s nothing we have to worry about anyway,” Tony said drily, “Obie will undoubtedly have a car with dark windows to limit the exposure as much as he can.”

“Why do you hate him so much?” Steve couldn’t help but ask. If they were friendly again, Tony might even tell him.

Tony threw him a look.

“No, seriously.” Steve was trying to talk quietly so that the rest of the cabin wouldn’t hear them. “Imagine I’m an idiot.”

“I’m there.” Tony nodded sagely.

Involuntarily, Steve snorted. “Tony.” He sighed with a smile. “I told you, I’ve never really talked to an omega before.”

Tony pursed his lips. “I remember.” His face becoming somber, Tony shifted to relax more comfortably into his seat. Or maybe to hide into it. “Well, the long and short of it is that I believe in the universally abhorred idea of having the right to choose when and even _if_ I decide to procreate.” He raised his eyebrow, clearly expecting an argument.

Exasperated, Steve turned, to look the O in the eye.

“What exactly,” he started off slowly, “makes you think that Mr. Stane would not allow you suppressants? This is not the dark ages. Of course, he's going to allow you the suppressants. It’s your right! And especially now that you are breaking up with your fiance. I mean, only the pious folk in the south…” He trailed off at Tony’s face getting progressively incredulous. “He didn’t come across as…” he halted. Had he really misread the situation _so_ badly?

Sighing, Tony rolled his eyes. “What are you even talking about? You were the one who confiscated my pills!”

“I… what?” Steve muttered, feeling confused. “But they were…” Sharply, all the blocks of information slotted into place and bile rose into his mouth. “Mr. Stane thought they were narcotics.” But even as he was saying the words, he knew that it wasn’t the truth.

“No,” Tony said emphatically. “You can bet your ass Obie knew what they were."

Steve rubbed his forehead.

"He lied to me,” he concluded out loud. Heat suppressants and scent blockers. Of course.

“I guess so.” Tony shrugged as if accepting Steve’s ridiculous naivete.

Steve rubbed his face with both hands, unable to believe what a goddamned fool he’d been. And he’d signed a contract with such a man. Gave him his word to bring Tony in—

Fuck!

Tony was silent while he let Steve process the information. Sitting quietly, his elbow on the edge of the window, looking out of it as if the whole situation wasn’t one impossibly huge clusterfuck.

"Do you have any proof about Stane?" Steve asked after a bit.

"Just my word."

Steve waited for him to elaborate.

"I overheard him," Tony said woodenly.

"Maybe you misunderstood?" Steve asked, and wanted immediately to take it back. As if he hadn’t sounded naive enough already.

“How would you interpret, ‘I want the boy off the pills. Knocking him up should keep him in line well enough'?”

He'd made his voice deeper as if imitating someone and Steve had to suppress a disgusted shiver.

“The words are seared into my brain,” Tony said, his lips twisting in distaste.

God, he must’ve felt so betrayed, Steve thought, gritting his teeth.

“Where are the servers?” Steve asked almost monotonously.

Tony’s head snapped up to stare at him. “You mean..? The Stark Industries servers?” His eyes came alive with hope and Steve’s breath hitched. “Stark Tower, hidden floor. 54th.”

Steve nodded, swallowing. He averted his gaze and thought.

"You're going to take the money then?" Tony asked with barely concealed eagerness.

"I don't know yet," Steve responded absently. His thoughts were running a mile a minute. Variables, questions, strategies, plans, and options.

"What? Why?" Tony demanded, taken aback.

Steve didn't reply.

"Steve?"

Tony put his palm on Steve’s forearm and Steve’s arm jolted. Hastily, Tony removed his hand.

“Sorry,” he said, adding, "Five million.” He waited a minute and continued, “Steve. Be reasonable!"

Steve raised his eyebrows and slowly turned back to look at Tony. "You're offering me five million bucks for something most mercs would agree to do for fifty grand, and I'm the one who’s unreasonable?"

"Okay.” Tony sighed, closing his eyes for only a moment. “You need time to think, fine. You have three hours; we should check in before landing. For now, I’ll settle for you giving me my suppressants and blockers back."

Slowly, very deliberately, Steve pulled in a lungful of air. “That…” he started, held the air in his lungs, then let it out with an almost noisy asthmatic whoosh, “...might be a problem.”

Tony wrinkled his eyebrow impatiently waiting for an explanation. They stared at each other.

“Okay,” Tony said finally. “I’ll bite. Why?”

“I…” Shit. “I might’ve flushed them down the toilet at the airport," Steve finished relatively calmly, all things considered.

Tony’s eyes widened. "What do you mean you flushed them down the toilet?"

Steve raised his arms in defense. "I thought it was coke!"

"What?” Having forgotten to look cool for once, Tony raised both brows, his eyes large and unblinking — a picture of incredulity. “Have you never seen coke before?" He was also starting to sound a little hysterical.

"...no?"

“You're… you’re serious.” Tony sighed. “Of course you are.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And you just destroyed my anonymity, you dumbass.” Raising his angry eyes to Steve’s, he continued in a low, dangerous voice, “You do realize that by tomorrow morning, every dumbass is going to know that I’m an omega?”

Feeling sheepish, Steve bit into his inner cheek. “I can protect you!”

Tony’s nostrils flared.

“Okay, yeah, sorry,” Steve backtracked. “What I meant to say was: can’t you get more?”

Turning away to lean back into his seat, Tony pursed his lips. “Not easily and not today.” He paused, probably weighing his options. “Obie, no doubt, has already found my supplier and paid him off. I have to find another. And I don’t have enough cash.”

"I can get cash.”

Tony nodded. “Okay, moving on. My phone?”

“I’ll give it to you when I can.” It was in Tony’s backpack, with the rest of the luggage. “It might need charging though.”

“Probably. Did you let Obie know that we are coming?”

“Yeah.” Steve grimaced. “Sorry.”

“No, of course you had to. I knew you would.”

Steve grunted. He’d fucked up. Besides Obie’s people, the airport would have its own security, and Stane had probably already secured their cooperation.

“We probably won’t be able to get away at the airport, but I have other ideas,” Steve said.

His eyes bright with hope, Tony nodded. “Let’s hear them.”

*

After they landed at Reagan Airport, everything happened very swiftly. A detainee transport dictated that they were immediately led to a separate room with Stane’s people already present.

“Oh, new people!” Tony called out cheerfully. “What happened to the old dream team? Obie fired them for letting me escape?”

Ignoring the omega’, the taller man nodded at Steve. “My name is Brennan Kwazoffsky, I’m Mr. Stane’s head of security.”

“The new forehead of security?” Tony said feigning delight. “Nice! And the Dave Bautista here? He the butt?”

“Richard Payne,” the other man said to Steve, not at all rattled. “We are here to escort you and your charge to your temporary safe house.”

Steve nodded his acknowledgment.

“Hey, can I see some ID here?” Tony inserted, refusing to be ignored. “How do I know you’re certified to escort someone as desperately charismatic as me?”

Swallowing his grin, Steve turned to Kwazoffsky.

“I understand that Mr. Stane asked me to guard his ward until tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Kwazoffsky confirmed. “Mr. Stane needs all his people for another event this evening and possibly through the night, so we are taking you both to a safe house until then.”

Tony gasped mockingly. “The forehead and a butt leaving me with a pretty face here? Uncle Obie is getting cheap in his old age…”

“He’s not handcuffed?” Kwazoffsky asked Steve, pointedly ignoring all Tony’s antics, but Steve would see that the man was annoyed.

“He’s an omega,” he said, trying to keep in tone. “What’s he gonna do? Bite?”

“Well, maybe,” Tony drawled, “if the Pretty Face’s butt is cute… comparatively...” He leaned back to check out Steve’s ass, then as if to compare, also Payne’s and Kwazoffsky’s.

“Maybe what he really needs is a gag,” Payne said with a hint of humor in his voice.

Steve’s nostrils flared at trying to keep his smile in. “Ignore him,” he said seriously, “Shall we…?” 

He gestured towards the door, but instead of setting off, Kwazoffsky nodded to his partner.

“Secure him.” He turned to Steve. “He got any bags with him?”

“Yes, two bags,” Steve said at the same time as Tony sing-songed ‘right he-ere!’.

“So are our butts,” Payne muttered under his breaths, and involuntarily, Steve snorted.

Payne produced a pair of handcuffs and quirked his eyebrow at Tony, who sighed, but held out his wrists.

“We’ll be moving through crowds,” Payne explained unapologetically.

“I’m an omega,” Tony returned. “What am I gonna do?”

“I’m gonna tell you what you are not gonna do, Mr. Stark,” Payne said. “You’re not gonna bite my arse.”

*

Despite all the precautions, the walk to the car was short and uneventful.

“Mr. Stane is entertaining until late tonight,” Kwazoffsky said from the front seat as the car took off from the curb. “So he’ll send a car when it’s safe to return to the mansion. After that you will be relieved of your duties, Marshal.”

“Do you have any idea when that might be?” Steve asked, looking at the man’s nape. 

“Most likely sometime tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good enough,” Steve replied, thinking of how and when it would be easiest to make their move.

For all their strategizing on the plane, their plans were still mostly up in the air. The good thing was that getting to the servers was relatively easy, but the downside was that getting to them without alerting the security team guarding Tony would be problematic. Compromising himself wasn’t something Steve was keen on doing. He understood that Tony’s options were mostly to take the money and run or remain a captive for the rest of his life, but for Steve, it was becoming a criminal, and that, despite how righteous it felt, didn’t seem like an ideal choice.

The ride lasted for over an hour, and when they finally pulled up before a medium-sized suburban home, Steve felt mildly surprised. Didn’t Obadiah Stane own something grander? Another thing that surprised him was that once Tony was safely locked into a third-floor bedroom, both men left and Steve was, once again, alone with Tony.

Huh.

Heart beating excitedly in his ribcage, Steve climbed up the stairs, unlocked the door, and… had to force himself not to stagger back. The room was filled with a sweet, sweet scent that Steve could only assume was the ambrosia— um... pheromones of an unbonded omega. Having been lounging on a bed, Tony looked at him in surprise.

“What’s happening?” he asked, sitting up. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Steve cleared his throat. It was abundantly clear now that whatever he thought he’d smelt last night had been relatively weak because of the scent dampeners that were still lingering in the O’s system.

“Tony,” he started, before shaking his head and mentally rolling his eyes at himself. “We’re alone until tomorrow,” he explained in what he hoped was a neutral tone.

“Oh? That’s good!”

Like a jack-in-the-box, Tony got up from the bed. His eyes were alert and alarmed as if he had no idea what he was doing to Steve’s alpha biology. Steve felt his stupid heart squeezing in his chest, and he went to the only window in the room to open it, only to suddenly realize that it had honest-to-god bars on it.

“Jesus.”

“Believe me now?” Tony asked, not without humor.

Mouth set in a firm line, Steve strode to the window, and ignoring the ugly metal, opened it.

“You need some fresh air in here,” he said flatly, turning around and setting his feet towards the kitchen. “You coming?”

In the kitchen, Tony went straight to the coffee maker, while Steve opened the fridge.

“Empty.” Steve felt like growling. “Figures.”

They ordered in, made coffee, and plugged their phones in for charging.

“So,” Tony started, “seems there’s no actual sneaking out necessary.”

“Seems so.” They would be able to pull it off, even though there were some hard decisions they had to make. “Let’s eat first though. Probably no point in making a move before dark.”

Tony nodded. “I’ll also have to find something to tie you up with before I go.”

“What?” Steve frowned. “No. I’m coming with you!”

Tony rolled his eyes. “But then, Obie will know that you breached the contract and you’ll be in trouble.”

“I don’t care!” Steve’s nostrils flared; he was thinking hard and fast how to sell his harebrained idea. “So they won’t pay me, so what?”

“Oh come on, Steve! I’m not an idiot!” Tony pursed his lips while drumming his fingers on the kitchen table. “You’ll be charged with kidnapping. It’s a serious crime!”

“I don’t care.” Steve glared at the omega. “You’ll give me money, I’ll disappear.”

“And upend your whole life? What about your family? Friends?”

“No family. My friends will cope.”

Tony scoffed. “And you are actually willing to do that? To become a criminal?”

“Yes.” Steve sighed. “What other option is there? I mean, can we prove abuse? I can testify if I see something but…”

Tony shook his head. “No. And even if I could, Obie’s too rich and powerful for it to stick properly. The best-case outcome is me getting a lot of psychological evaluation and monitored living conditions that everybody will pretend is to make sure that Obie can’t abuse me. And ultimately I will be pressured to get married as quickly as possible so that the whole scandal could be suffocated and buried.” He glanced at Steve grimly. “No. I think it’s best if I just go alone. Too great a risk for you even if they never catch you.”

Steve mulled this over. There was a stupid, really stupid idea nagging at his brain, but he clamped his mouth firmly shut and let the O continue. With a sigh, Tony did.

“I think it’s relatively safe. I used to be in and out of the SI labs at all hours before, so I doubt security would call Obie the middle of the night to ask if I have a right to be there. It’s not public knowledge that I’ve escaped, so why would he?”

“What if the guard on duty knows?” Steve argued. “Or it’s a new guy like Kwazoffsky and Payne?”

“I don’t think so. Obie’s personal security and SI general security are separate entities. And if the guy in duty is new, I’ll simply charm my way in.”

Tony grinned disarmingly, no doubt, to give him an example of how charming he is, but Steve scowled. He realized that maybe Tony was right, the risk was minimal, and yet, the stupid idea of a simpler solution was like poison making his skin itch. Simpler, but also self-serving in the extreme. He couldn’t… It would be idiotic to even voice it. There was no way Tony would ever agree. He watched Tony pour out coffee and tried not to breathe too deeply.

Shit.

He opened the kitchen window.

The takeout came only twelve minutes later, and Steve went to retrieve it while Tony kept out of view. They ate.

“What are you going to do after you get the money?” Steve asked.

“Wire five mil into an offshore account and text you how to access it,” Tony replied, his eyes trained on his food.

“No need,” Steve said with a sigh. The mere idea of using Tony for personal gain was making him sick now. “I don't need your money, Tony.”

“What do you mean you don’t need my money?” Tony exclaimed, looking affronted. “I promised you five million and I'm going to give you five million!”

Steve put his fork down and leaned in. “No, you can't—” He took a deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders. “What would I do with that money anyway?”

Tony frowned. “What do you mean what? Jesus, Steve! The least you can do is buy some coke to know what it looks like for the next time!”

“Don’t you dare _joke_ right now, Stark!” Steve pressed through his teeth.

“Then what am I supposed to _do,_ Rogers?” Tony returned, his words precise and cutting. “I’m getting out tonight, so that makes me _happy!_ Of course I’m going to joke and grin and laugh about it!”

He pulled his lips over his teeth into a rictus of a smile and Steve’s fists tightened. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch the omega or put his arms around him. To squeeze and press his face near the biting gland; or maybe just wipe that painful expression off Tony’s face with his own version of a smile, his lips on the O’s.

Pushing the table away from himself, Steve stood, his chair clattering behind him.

“Damn it, Tony! Can you just… not?”

Panting, he turned around and walked to the window to pull some fresh oxygen into his lungs.

For a little while, there was just silence behind him. 

“Well,” Tony said quietly. “I suppose if you want to, you can just give the money to charity?”

Steve took another deep breath. “I suppose, I can.”

There was no answer, and half a minute later, Steve heard Tony moving around: putting the chair upright and clearing the cartons off the table.

“God, I wish I'd accepted Rhodey's proposal when I could,” Tony muttered.

Prop— What?

His heart suddenly pounding, Steve whirled around. “What proposal?”

Tony shrugged. “Rhodey’s my best friend from MIT,” he explained. “At some point, he actually suggested that we marry, so I wouldn’t have to deal with my parents’ overbearing attention, but I decided that it would've been unfair to him.” Tony poured another cup of coffee for himself. “Want me to top you off?”

I’d like you to top something off, sure, Steve thought nonsensically. He shook his head.

Tony simply nodded and went on.

“We weren't in love or anything. We never saw each other that way just… He thought it would be easier for me, and after my parents died I actually considered asking him myself, but…”

He shrugged.

“Would you marry him now?” Steve asked, his throat tight.

He tried to look casual, but his tone had already given him away, and Tony glanced sharply at him.

“I don’t know, I think he…” Tony trailed off for a moment. “I think Rhody is seeing someone already. Seems serious.”

Well… Steve nodded. The crazy idea was suddenly fighting its way out of Steve's brain and onto his lips, but—

“You can marry me,” he blurted, blushed, and squashing all his anxiousness continued recklessly, “We could marry — you and me. I would sign whatever you want, so that you can have your money and your company. You can...” He paused to breathe. “Work. I don't care about convention or any of that.”

He looked into Tony’s astonished eyes imploringly.

“You would…” Tony started haltingly. “You would do that for me? Why? You don't even know me.”

“Well…” Steve dropped his eyes, not even sure what he was going to say. “It’s not like it would be a hardship to be married to you.” God, he was crazy, was he really offering? Shit. Steve didn't have much. Nothing to offer a rich, smart and beautiful omega—

Except freedom.

Suddenly feeling confident, he snapped his gaze up.

“I know you are a good man, Tony. Talented, handsome. I know it would be you who’s stepping down on a ladder rung here. I know I don’t have much to my name, but I would treat you fair, and I would let you live your life like you want. And if later, you want to divorce me, I’ll give you that too. With no contest on your assets.”

Tony would have to recite good reasons, but it was his right as an omega to file for a divorce after five years.

“You would really do that for me?”

“I would,” Steve confirmed.

Tony’s eyes searched for the truth in Steve’s and for a long minute they just stared at each other. Then blinking, Tony pulled back.

“Huh,” he huffed. “You really would, wouldn’t you?” Tony shook his head. “Steve—”

“I promise,” Steve confirmed.

Slowly, Tony nodded.

“But you mean a real marriage, not just for show? I didn’t misunderstand that part, right? You mean we would actually get married and consummate the union and…”

“Live happily ever after,” Steve said, and promptly felt his cheeks burning up.

For a second, Tony watched him, then his lips twitched and he threw his head back in a full-belly laugh.

“No, listen, I’m not joking here.” Steve’s teeth were clenched in annoyance. “I’ve got an army buddy who can marry any vet at any time and place. You’re of age, so no guardian consent needed. I can give him a call now and he'll have filed our documents before sunrise! No, I’m serious, stop laughing, Tony, listen! You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met and I—”

That seemed to sober Tony up immediately.

“That’s just your hormones talking,” Tony replied with a wry twist to his lips. “Trust me, I’ve gotten more than a few spontaneous proposals over the years.” He looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “If I agree now, I’d feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”

Steve frowned. “You’re talking nonsense. I’m a vet with nothing to offer and you are the omega with a dowry and almost no options.” He swallowed. “But if you say a word, I’ll help you get the money and disappear off the face of the earth, no questions asked and no reprimands made.”

He stared at the beautiful omega who was still looking somewhat guilty.

“I’ve done a number on you, haven’t I?” Tony muttered.

Now it was Steve’s turn to laugh. “Sure you have. Since the very first time I saw you grab that heavy screwdriver in the garage.”

Tony’s eyebrow rose. “That’s what got your interest? The way I wield phallic-shaped tools?”

His lips twisting into a grin, Steve watched Tony. “Sure, that’s the reason.”

Tony pursed his lips thoughtfully. “If we marry, Obie will never be able to do anything about it unless he sues you in civil court for kidnapping, but without my testimony, he’s got bupkis.”

Steve grinned. Tony was actually thinking about it. Steve couldn’t believe it - Tony was _actually_ thinking about it! Then Tony leaned in, put his palm on Steve’s face, and kissed him.

Oh.

It was a kiss unlike any other Steve had ever received, including Tony’s. This wasn’t manipulation or seduction, this wasn’t want. It wasn’t even an offer or a question. It was astonishment and a thank you. It was awe, and Steve felt like the happiest man in the whole wide world.

“I think I love you,” Steve said breathlessly when Tony pulled away.

Tony’s lips quivered in something like unhappiness but before Steve could ask about it, he grinned winningly and raised his face to touch his lips to Steve’s nose.

“Hold your horses, Mr. Rogers,” he said with an adorable smile. “We’re not even married yet.”

“Don't need to be married to know how I feel.”

Tony nodded as if indulging Steve. “Tell you what,” he said, “go outside for a bit and clear your head.”

Steve started to object, but Tony interrupted him.

“You sound drunk, Steve. Take a stroll in the garden at the back, clear your head, and if you are still determined to marry my sorry ass in fifteen minutes, I’ll go wherever you want with you, okay?”

Steve stared into his omega’s eyes, then sighed happily and nodded. Everything was going to be okay. Happiness made Steve feel powerful. He would protect Tony. Everything was going to be alright.

He nodded. “Yes, Tony,” he said and went.

*

Fresh air felt good. The sun was setting and a bird was singing its heart out somewhere. Probably a mating song, Steve thought. He called Thor who laughed over how sappy Steve sounded, and afterward, he just sat on the back porch and breathed.

A short while later, he heard the front door creak and leaped up in alarm. He ran around the house and what he saw made his blood boil in betrayal — Tony, his backpack over his shoulder, was creeping as quietly as he could down the porch stairs.

“Hey!” Steve shouted and ran to cut the O off before he made it to the gate.

Tony startled and stopped, his face guilty as hell.

“What the fuck, Tony!” Steve hissed in anger. "Why? Why were you…?"

He couldn’t even say it.

Tony looked at him for a moment longer, then his face crumpled. "I didn't want you to make a mistake," he blurted.

"What? What do you…?" But he knew. It didn't take a genius to understand what had happened. He took a deep breath, grabbed Tony's elbow and guided him back to sit on the porch, then sat down next to him. "Ok, first of all, marrying a pretty and talented omega — not a mistake. Second…"

“You got high on pheromones,” Tony said, not looking at him.

Steve huffed. “So yeah, maybe I got a little… elated in there, but I do like you, Tony, okay?” He looked up, eyes searching for the horizon, but it was filled with rows and rows of similar dark roofs. Damn it. He shouldn’t have told Tony that he loved him. Clearly, it was too soon. Hell, Steve would be the first to admit, now that he was thoroughly detoxicated, that having a big crush on the first omega he’d ever interacted with looked a little stupid. "I _like_ you,” he repeated stubbornly. “Have from the start.”

“Yeah,” Tony acknowledged. “Yeah, okay, but… we’ve only known each other for two days. It's not…”

"Romance for the ages?" Steve smiled, watching Tony’s fingers flexing around the strap of his backpack in silent anxiousness. “But, Tony, you’ve smelt like beta for the most of it, and I’ve liked you since the moment we met. You can’t argue with that.”

Tony lifted his head to look him in the eyes, searchingly, but also with some smidgeon of hope, and that made Steve bold.

“Can you honestly tell me that you didn’t feel it too?" he asked. "The connection?” He knew he sounded naive, but in his _soul,_ he knew he was right. “God, Tony. I really, really think we’ve got a fighting chance with this, but… If you feel you’d rather make it a marriage on paper, we can do that too.” He wanted to cup Tony’s face, put his arms around him or just his palm on Tony’s shoulder, but that might be too much for now, so he just pushed back his silly yearnings, and continued, quieter, “I’ve already spoken with my army buddy. He is waiting for us in his house, and although I’d like for it to be more romantic, maybe, at this point, it doesn’t have to be.” He paused to watch for a sign of what Tony really thought about all of this, but his eyes were unreadable. “After,” Steve said, sighing, “we can go straight to your lawyers, and I’ll sign everything over to you like I promised, and we can rent a really large house somewhere and live in its different wings for the next five years and…”

At this point, Tony shut him up with a kiss which Steve immediately responded to.

God.

Tony moaned and opened wider, and Steve's brain shut off.

Their arms around each other, their bodies pressed together as their lips were battling for whatever they could get and more. Steve groaned. His insides were trembling, his knees were weak, and there was a bright light behind his eyelids.

“Alright,” Tony said huskily between kisses, “Steve… Rogers… God..."

“Alpha,” Steve corrected.

“Dumbass,” Tony retaliated in a tone that implied agreement.

They kissed for a little longer, and were now possibly giving the neighbors something to look at, but at least it was dark. Steve’s hands were on Tony’s butt, Tony’s in Steve’s hair—

"Steve?"

"Shuddup—"

"No, Steve… wait..." Tony said, put his hands around Steve's neck and lifted his legs around his waist—

"Yes!" Steve said, which got him a ‘lovable shithead’. Steve pinched his plump ass in retaliation and swallowed the protests with his lips.

“God, Tony.”

“Fuck.”

“Language.”

“Fuck me.”

“Better.”

"Hypocrite."

"Gag," Steve just threatened, but then he felt fingers on his belt buckle and suddenly clear-headed, Steve pushed Tony away.

“No. We’re outside.” He took a deep breath.

“Point.” Tony grabbed his hand and tried tugging him back to the house.

"That's not all." Steve didn't let himself be moved.

“What? Steve! Bed!”

“No.”

Tony's eyes were still bright with arousal, but Steve had to stand firm. God, he had to.

"Tony, stop."

“What? Why?”

Tony rolled his eyes and Steve raised his eyebrows in response.

“You really think I’m gonna put out without you making an honest man out of me first?” Steve asked.

Startled into a quiet laugh, Tony stepped closer but didn't let go of Steve's hand.

“Okay," Tony replied. "Okay, so when does your buddy expect us? Are you sure we don’t have time for a quickie?”

"Tony."

The omega sighed. Turned his back to Steve and rubbed his face. "God, you make thinking a chore _,_ Rogers." He shook his head as if to clear it, and repeated in a faux disgusted voice, "A _chore._ " He looked up at the dark sky.

“Sorry,” Steve said unapologetically.

“No, you’re not.” Tony turned back around. “Are we _actually_ in a hurry or do you have something else in mind?”

“A bit in a hurry, yeah."

Steve pulled Tony to closer himself and slid his palm over the O's shirt front. Tony shivered.

“No time for stargazing, huh?” Tony asked, sighing. "You're distracting me."

He stepped back, so Steve put his hands into pockets and looked down at the gravel.

The pause stretched out.

"Okay.” Tony finally gave an impatient half-shrug. “Okay, you win," he repeated. "We’ll try it your way. Make it a real marriage.”

Steve’s face split into a wide smile, and he tilted his head to look at the beautiful person standing in front of him. An omega. _His_ omega. An omega who was watching him, smiling. A decision ready and firm on his face.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Steve blurted.

Tony grinned. "Got into your head again, alpha?" 

Alpha. And not a curse this time but a title of trust and friendship. Relieved, Steve smiled.

"I'm good." He waved his hand in front of himself. “Lots of fresh air. Probably don’t even need that much.” He stepped closer and pulled his omega back into a hug. "But maybe we should get you a scent blocker prescription too. Before you go to work, at least. You're a walking temptation.”

Steve put his nose into the dark wavy hair and inhaled in pleasure. Tony relaxed into his embrace and hummed.

“The suppressants help with that too actually,” Tony said into his ear, sounding almost sleepy. "And after bonding, the pheromones will settle. Suppressants should be good enough until…" he cut himself off and Steve felt a flutter of happy anticipation form a warm knot deep inside his soul.

"Until," he confirmed.

They were silent for a beat, then like a purring cat, Tony pressed himself even closer and nuzzled his face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"So maybe," he mumbled, "I’m a little in love with you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote some places like... a thousand times! Seriously. I really hope it didn't come off as sloppy work bc I make mistakes when I rewrite and nothing helps. But I did give it my best.
> 
> I enjoyed writing this very much and I hope you enjoyed reading! :)
> 
> Comments are love! <3 <3 <3


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